“Please serenade me with your plethora of discontent” Moans the hellish void “Expunge yours depths and mind as you would semen Write it onto me, child.” I’m suffocating In this vague oppressive fog Human inhuman capabilities Awakened by a need for a specific idea of what the real God is It’s you, I know I’ll forfeit my rebellion into your bosom I’m sprinting as fast as I can in this hall of millions I believe in vain I’m being chased A hand reaches to my shoulder and holds tight Suddenly my vision dashes to a blur The only words to emit from their clutches “Remember when you ruined everything? Your hubris is absurd” Find yourself, stroke the shaft of the blade This floating landscape equal to ocean and space Group together the endless leather - skin pulls fast as sound Skeletal book burning taking place six feet underground Magnificent whores my ribs will become To the Jesus there may be if I can find him If I kill me I am not a person This is not personal nor respect I am an item I am a f****t I am perishing like a vegetable Dead already Burning red like an erection If I kill me

I run across the hedonic treadmill every day Life’s graph has gone horizontal, lateral plane Every birthday I see no change Monotony is the worst of all headaches Is this really all there is to be? A worker, then a man, then reluctantly me I can’t remember a time when I didn’t wish for some alternative This can’t be the life I was promised looking into the sunset And if there is a God, can he put me elsewhere and try again? Or at least help me forget and crucify who I am Is this really all there is to be? A worker, then a man, then reluctantly me Is this really all there is to be? A worker, then a man, then reluctantly me

I can’t sleep I only know regret I could never tell you I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry All I know is I’ve failed I can’t sleep Just try not to think about it for the night

I fear I see something out of the corner of my eye Some outer blood, inner flesh creature I fear it hurts me - I pray it takes me This entire blessed existence Is nothing but a blip in the vast distance I am a moment in inevitably forgotten history I guess all of us are as well Fuck, man, I’m sorry I just can’t seem to think straight Really, man, I’m sorry I just can’t seem to think straight Is this my quirky form of masculinity? I never really thought of it that way exactly Allow me to indulge in a fantasy Where everything all at once envelops me Don’t get me started on this blockbuster cliche Which this grand revelation regarding my say In my supposed everything and in my taste Man, I really still can’t figure it out Fuck, man, I’m sorry I still don’t know quite yet Really, man, I’m sorry I just don’t really know quite yet I don’t really think about the future I think about dying more I’ve already spent all those centuries not existing yet But before I go I just need to know If there ever was this thing Which of the concepts were it? Fuck, man, I’m sorry I know you can’t tolerate indecisiveness Fuck, man, I’m sorry I know I’m disappointing you

If I die someday And I know I will I hope I’m forgotten Like I was never there There’s a beauty in (this world God has built) Losing oneself within (was not built for man) Your own urges (a being made only for sex) To cut into your own skin (which craves empty sin) I can’t tell the difference (this world is not for me) Between life and death (this world is not for me) Either ends in the Earth (this world is not for me) And lasts only in the heads (this world is not for me) Of devils (this world is not for me) Entranced by a calamity amalgamation Of human flesh and fluid Of all the prior myselves I’d have no problem killing Alongside the current form The Theseus statement

Outside my window I saw two people hugging It lasted a long time and you could tell it was goodbye for quite a while I found it quite beautiful and pondered whether this was their indoctrination Into love, loss, and grief Losing something lovely yet brief This indoctrination theory I’ve been pondering Whilst the newfangled valley of flesh surrounds me It’s such a small thing You can’t make sense of it But I wonder what she meant when it was in that tone she said, “Oh you” “Oh you” I miss laughing that much I miss being so sure Though what am I missing? What am I nostalgic for? To see the surface or face the facts; the two sides of my mind I often choose to fuck myself blind God, to return to that ignorance except far less mean And pretend everyone loves me for their perception of me Isolation causes naturally the mind to wander A frailty so deep it dilutes man to machine And deepens the connection the soul has to the cock The amount of info at my tips knows no mercy nor how to stop I do everything with only myself in mind And yet I’m never pleased with the result I find I beg and plead for some new ambition or being But fear ever leaving These tears aren’t mine I promise you my dear I carry them for two when my dents are conceived This indoctrination theory I wonder to myself Is this entire being singular without help? I remember a past boy with ambitions so naive And yet I have to commend his sincerity Suddenly I launched myself into this pile Or should I say I kept myself from seeing it at all? I’ve hit a wall I’ve hit a wall The past is nothing but a black purgatory A blank canvas for me to paint My ideal life and who I wish I was Romanticizing a dead boy from long ago Perhaps all these memories are just me lying to myself with hyperbole Perhaps this indoctrination theory is nothing but a scapegoat to explain why I’m unhappy with myself How should I explain this indoctrination theory? A singular moment in which you are conceived Your entire life and the person you become Is based around in that moment your decision And I guess in my moment I didn’t even react For my indoctrination seems to be into nothing I’d say that’s how I feel however As I play these I notes I feel the aforementioned swell One could consider it massively overwhelming A mass catharsis orgasmic and surreal Consider that the birth of Ben as Lanternfly Naming myself after an invasive species seems to clarify

Now it’s all just faint distance I can’t ever feel that again I can picture the image of it But that blind, romantic child is long dead Goddamn these newly ingrown cells They’ve killed this promising young child And birthed me A suicidal cycle I close my eyes At the edge of my bed This action completed at a biblical scale I’ll be free And I’ll never feel alone again If I could one day speak to this dead boy And tell him, “I miss you, I miss you, I miss you”